


broken wishbones under your bed

by wolfhalls



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Face Slapping, Interrogation, M/M, Mind Sex, Sexual Fantasy, it's probably not reflective of canon, needless to say it's all a bit Fucked Up, watch as I take Kylo's powers and use them in a completely inappropriate way, written before TFA's release soooooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 16:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfhalls/pseuds/wolfhalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just,” and Kylo stops short, closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath. “Pretend.” He turns his head, and Hux knows that he's facing in the direction of Dameron's cell. His throat is long and pale, and Hux leans forward and brings his hand to it. Through his gloves, he can feel Kylo's pulse jump.</p><p>This, this is what Hux likes. Control. Kylo is never more lovely than when he gives in to his desires, when he comes to Hux to get what he needs. He presses his thumb against Kylo's thudding heartbeat, and nods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	broken wishbones under your bed

**Author's Note:**

> listen, if you don't think that hux and kylo have incredibly weird sex on a regular basis, then you're not invited to my birthday party.
> 
> obviously when you're fantasising about someone you're both holding hostage, that's a little fucked up. and poor poe, although not involved directly in the most x-rated parts, is subject to some interrogation methods that might make for uncomfortable reading for some. feel free to message me on tumblr @ wolfhalls if you me to explain anything before you read!
> 
> this was written while listening to the new foals album pretty much non stop. the title comes from [albatross](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WaQD8G89_sk), one of the best songs on it.

Whenever he is with Kylo, he gets the distinct feeling that he is being weighed and found wanting. It's not quite dislike, but it comes close sometimes. They're as different as can be. Hux likes order, Kylo seems to thrive on chaos. Hux thinks before he takes action, whereas Kylo-

 

Whereas Kylo does something like dragging a Resistance rebel off of the floor by his hair and slamming him against the wall. Poe Dameron, he is reliably informed, is the finest pilot of his generation – and in possession of the information that they need.

 

Dameron is handsome, there is no doubting it. Even now, bloodstained and bruised, Hux can see that. Kylo has hurt him, has pulled his mind apart and shuffled it like a pack of cards. Hux has watched that kill greater men. Dameron though, lays back against the wall of his cell and gasps, chin tilted towards the ceiling. Kylo is shaking from the effort of torturing him, his chest rising and falling, rising and falling.

 

Hux leans forward, and grasps Dameron's chin in his hand. Blood trickles onto his glove, and he smears it across the prisoner's hand with his thumb. He thinks that he can hear Kylo's breath hitch. Good.

 

“They won't save you, you know.” Hux says, sotto voce. Kylo hums in agreement, tapping his boot on the floor. The skin on the back of Hux's neck prickles.

 

“He is strong,” Kylo says that night. Unmasked, he too is beautiful – and Hux curses himself for the observation. His hands curl, leather gathering in the creases of his fists. Kylo watches them work, his lips pressed together tightly.

 

“I know,” Hux replies. “It will take longer than we thought.” One thing that both he and Kylo have in common is a lack of patience. Hux sighs, and pulls the gloves off, tugging on each finger as he does. Kylo is still staring.

 

Hux lays back on the bed, and closes his eyes.

 

-

 

Kylo cradles Dameron's face in his bare hands – and for a moment, the action almost looks gentle. Dameron must be near delirious by now, and Kylo smiles, resting his forehead against the other man's. Hux shudders, despite himself. Kylo doesn't often remove his mask, but when he does – it's almost more intimidating.

 

“Just give up,” Kylo whispers. His voice is low and soft, almost too quiet to hear. Hux knows it too well to miss it though. “It'll stop hurting then. Help me, and I'll let you go.” Honestly, it could almost be mistaken for kindness. Kylo's mouth is inches from Dameron's, and Hux imagines blood smeared across it. Kylo shifts, and for a moment Hux thinks he's going t– but then he presses his thumbs against Dameron's temples, and lets out a long, shuddering breath. In the tiny cell, it's loud. Hux bites down on his lip.

 

Kylo's tongue darts out from between his teeth. Dameron's eyes follow it. Kylo closes his eyes. “Poe,” he says. “Just let go, let me in.” His head turns, he lowers his mouth to Dameron's neck. _Dangerous,_ Hux wants to say. Kylo breathes out, his mouth not quite touching the skin. Then he straightens, and looks Dameron in the eye. “Will you?” he says. You'd make it worth his while, Hux thinks to himself.

 

For a moment, it seems as though Dameron will do as he is willed. His shoulders slump, his head tilts forward and all Hux can think is _Kylo, yes._ Dameron doesn't though. He smiles, cocky and sure. Hux imagines what his face would look like after a slap, all slack jawed and dark, unfurling bruises.

 

“No,” Dameron says. “I can't help you. I won't.”

 

Kylo's face twists, his mouth curling into an ugly line. He shoves Dameron back against the wall and snarls. He is too mercurial. His control over his emotions is weak at best. Hux knows this. He knows it far too well. He has felt it first hand.

 

He places a hand on Kylo's shoulder. “Don't,” he says. “We still need him.” Kylo turns towards him.

 

“Do what you want with him,” he says. His fingers twitch, and Hux knows that he'll beat his knuckles raw within the hour.

 

The thing with Kylo is, he can only do this for so long.

 

-

 

Kylo trains. Hux watches him. He does so under the pretence that Kylo is a loose cannon, is a danger to himself if left alone. Hux knows that this is nonsense, but there's no one brave or stupid enough to challenge him. Kylo ignores him for the most part. It's probably a blessing.

 

When he is alone, Hux watches the recording of Dameron and Kylo more times than he should. He imagines them together, pressed against the wall of the cell. He imagines being close enough to see the hairs standing up on the back of their necks. Looking, but not touching. He can't allow himself that.

 

He's just about to go to sleep when there is a knock at the door, heavy and insistent. Hux doesn't need to think about who could be on the other side. When he opens it, Kylo is leaning against the doorway. His hair is damp with sweat, and he looks like he hasn't slept for weeks. “You want him,” he says. His voice is flat, but his pupils are blown, his gaze unerring.

 

Hux swallows. “Do you?” Kylo doesn't answer, just walks past Hux and into his quarters. Hux knows where this is going. “We shouldn't,” he says after Kylo – but he can already hear the weakness in it.

 

Kyle lies back on the bed, and places his hands under his head. “What,” he says, “if it was need, rather than want?” He closes his eyes on the last word. “What if I said that?”

 

Hux comes to sit on the edge of the bed, and remains silent, watching the rise and fall of Kylo's chest.

 

“Just,” and Kylo stops short, closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath. “Pretend.” He turns his head, and Hux knows that he's facing in the direction of Dameron's cell. His throat is long and pale, and Hux leans forward and brings his hand to it. Through his gloves, he can feel Kylo's pulse jump.

 

This, this is what Hux likes. Control. Kylo is never more lovely than when he gives in to his desires, when he comes to Hux to get what he needs. He presses his thumb against Kylo's thudding heartbeat, and nods.

 

Kylo undresses slowly, methodically. The bruises and scars marring his skin make him look vulnerable – but it is fleeting. Kylo meets his gaze, and there is enough intent there to have Hux remain completely still.

 

“Would you take him there in his cell? If he let you?” asks Kylo. “Come on, show me. Tell me what you'd do.”

 

Hux crawls up the bed, coming to rest between Kylo's legs.

 

“Talk to me like I'm him,” Kylo says. He traces a finger along his chest, marking a fat red line with his nail. Hux doesn't need to look to see if he's hard.

 

He does anyway.

 

“You are a traitor,” he says looking back up and using a finger to trace along the line of Kylo's collarbone. “You reject order, you break the law, and for what?” He tries to imagine how the real rebel in his cell would respond to it. Probably less eagerly. Kylo hums, clearly hoping to push Hux further.

 

“For what?” he presses again, grasping Kylo's chin between his fingers.

 

“For pleasure,” sighs Kylo, tilting his head back – and with that, Hux feels the last of his self restraint disappear.

 

“You are _scum,_ ” he says against Kylo's mouth. “You have no morals, no respect, no-” and he yanks Kylo's hair so hard the other man cries out. Dameron would wrap his legs around Hux's waist, so he slaps Kylo's thigh. Kylo, the clever, clever boy, understands immediately; and a bare calf comes to rest at the base of Hux's spine.

 

“Take this off,” Kylo says, pulling at Hux's jacket. “Off, off, _off._ ”

 

The slap that meets Kylo's cheek suprises both of them, and for a moment Hux is scared of how far from control he has strayed. Kylo looks near-dumbstruck, his mouth open and eyes wide. Then he moans, his hips jerking up in tight little movements. He uses his leg to pull Hux closer against him. A red mark blooms on the right side of his face.

 

We're done for, Hux thinks to himself. We can't go back from this.

 

“Are you going to kill me?” asks Kylo, and Hux hears Poe Dameron's voice. He's half tempted to send for a guard and tell them to bring him here to watch. The thought makes him drive his hips against Kylo's. Kylo bites his lip, bringing a hand to his bruised face. “I don't think you want to kill me though,” he says. “I think you just want to hurt me.”

 

“Do you want to be hurt?” asks Hux before he can stop himself.

 

“I want to _feel,_ ” says Kylo, the last word leaving him on a long, laboured breath.

 

Hux's clothes join Kylo's on the floor not long after that. He lets Kylo take off his gloves, pushes his fingers between those lips and lets him tug them off with his teeth. Naked, he presses himself along the long line of Kylo's body.

 

“What would your fellow rebels think of this, hmm?” Hux asks. “To know that their leader lowers himself like this. That he'll do anything to save his own skin?” He ignores the way his own hands are trembling.

 

“They've abandoned me,” says Kylo. “Left me for dead. I need-” and he shifts, sitting up a little and resting his weight back on his elbows. Hux leans forward and bites him where neck meets shoulder, sucking and working the skin between his teeth.

 

Hux pushes Kylo's legs further apart and the other man goes willingly. Hux lowers his mouth to the pale, smooth skin of his inner thigh and bites down, hard. Kylo swears, and grabs on to Hux's hair, halfway between tugging him away and shoving him down harder.

 

When Hux pushes a finger into him, slick and sure, Kylo swears, and for a moment – resists. Then his body goes lax and he shudders. “Yes,” he says. “Please,” Hux wants him to say. He curls his finger, presses hard and yes, that's how he wants Kylo. On the edge of begging, ready to do anything that's asked of him.

 

He wonders if their prisoner is sleeping.

 

“Why resist?” he says, his words warming the skin along the inside of Kylo's knee. “Why spend your life in disorder, when you could be here?” He's not sure who he's saying it to.

 

When one finger becomes two, Kylo puts a hand on Hux's shoulder and makes him look him in the eye. His eyes are wide open, and his jaw is clenched hard. “More,” he says – not asking, telling. “Do what you want with me.”

 

“I will,” says Hux. “I'll use you for whatever I see fit. Maybe,” and he twists his fingers suddenly, “I'll make you come like this. Untouched.”

 

“Don't,” Kylo breathes. “We'll both like it too much.”

 

With each moment they're straying further away from the game that Kylo himself suggested they play. Panic and arousal curdle in the pit of Hux's stomach. He doesn't stop. Instead, he reaches for the same bottle of lube that he'd used to open Kylo up, and slicks his own cock with it.

 

Kylo watches him, silent again. He doesn't make another noise until Hux slowly, slowly, eases in. “Oh,” Kylo breathes. Each time they do this, he sounds like he's being fucked for the first time. His eyes are wide, his bottom lip worried between his teeth. He's tight, so tight. The hairs on Hux's arms stand on end, and he edges forward slowly.

 

“Kylo,” he says, forgetting himself.

 

Kylo tilts his head back and whines. “ _Poe,_ ” he says. Hux has do idea if Kylo has decided to play along again or is voicing a wish of his own. The way he says it though; Hux can almost imagine Poe pressing Kylo down onto the mattress, fucking him until he-

 

“Harder,” says Kylo. “Come on.”

 

Hux slaps him again, the back of his hand striking Kylo's cheek. Kylo makes a desperate, primal sound, his back curving away from the mattress.

 

“Don't disobey your orders, _soldier._ ”

 

Kylo rakes his nails down Hux's back and for a moment, he has to stop moving – the sudden flare of pain almost enough to send him over the edge. He bites Kylo again, keeps doing it until he tastes blood. Kylo thrashes around underneath him, grabbing onto the sheets and trying to move his hips down against Hux's thrusts.

 

“Disgusting,” he says. “So desperate for pleasure, you'd look to _me_ for it.” He's close himself, can feel that tell-tale warmth pooling low in him. He pulls out and then slams back in hard, again and again.

 

“Yes,” says Kylo and then a moment later “oh, I'm going t- Hux,” and at last, “ _please_ -” He reaches out and his hands find Hux's temples and all of a sudden, he can feel it, Kylo's pleasure. He feels the hot drag of his own cock, feels the sharp sting of a slap on a cheek, a bite on a shoulder and Kylo laughs, deliriously. It's like seeing double, fucking and being fucked at the same time. It's almost too much to bear.

 

“I feel-”

 

“Yes, Kylo, like-” and then suddenly, his mind is filled with images of Poe, the smell of his skin, Kylo's hands around slim wrists, Hux's own face as he watched them. He grabs Kylo's hands and pins them back down against the bed, his nails digging into the soft skin of his wrists.

 

“Wicked,” he grits out between his teeth. “You are wicked.”

 

At that, Kylo comes. He's quiet when he does, like always. He gasps through it, rolling his hips and looking down between them. Hux realises that he didn't even have a hand on him, and groans at the sight.

 

Hux doesn't last much longer after that, it's impossible. He pulls out of Kylo and thrusts into his own grip. One, two, three and it washes over him in full force, makes him fall forwards and grind against Kylo's stomach, his knuckles digging into the taut flesh. He's aware of what he must look like, rutting like an animal.

 

Kylo says nothing, just tugs at the hairs at the nape of Hux's neck. The time for sentimentality has passed, it appears – if there was any to start with.

 

Kylo falls asleep with his back turned to him. His right side is covered in bruises, pale skin mottled with purple-black and sickly green. Hux wonders how he got them. He's not sure if he wants to ask. He presses his fingers against them, and Kylo wakes, hissing out a pained breath.

 

“What now?” Hux asks.

 

“We talk to him again. We don't stop until he breaks,” Kylo replies, his voice unusually soft. He is tired, that is plain to see. So is Hux.

 

“Tomorrow then,” he says. Kylo doesn’t respond, and shifts further away.

 

**Author's Note:**

> george lucas, i'm sorry this is how your legacy panned out.


End file.
